The Art Of Deduction ➢ Sherlock x Reader

Moriarty [6]

Y/N POV

My phone vibrated and my eyes fluttered open. Sherlock was sound asleep with his arms wrapped around my waist. I yawed and suddenly blushed with the recollections of what happened last night.

Quickly, I checked my phone to see who it was texting so early.

Hello darling. Let's play a game. Meet me at the cafe on brown street xx Jim

Then it hit me. James Moriarty. Why did it take me so long to realize this. He was the one who send us the letter. Sherlock and I are pawns in his game of chess. K meant King. It wasn't a name. He was calling himself King. The King.

I couldn't tell Sherlock. Not yet. I unraveled myself from his tight grasp and ruffled his hair.

My head was spinning and I felt absolutely sick. James Moriarty. Criminal Mastermind. Well, to be technically correct he was a Consulting criminal.

That's pretty much all the intel people had on him. I hated not knowing something.

To relive myself of some stress, I decided on taking a shower.

*

*

There was another buzz from my phone.

I'm waiting.
x Jim

Being the sleepyhead that he was and due to the wine, Sherlock was still asleep clutching a pillow which he believed was me. I sighed and felt bad for not telling him but knowing the man Sherlock was he's probably get us into trouble or plan something that would get us nowhere or almost dead: yup that's Sherlock for you.

So, I made my way to brown street and into the cave of the wolf.

Moriarty was waiting patiently, and reading the newspaper. He was lavishly dressed. I coughed loudly and he looked up with smile.

The man was unreadable. His eyes held no absolute emotion, and his smile was not a genuine, but rather a cruel smirk.

"Hello. Y/N. I assume your bright enough to figure out I sent you the letter?" He chirped with false enthusiasm.

"Of course." I deadpan, narrowing my eyes trying to deduce him. He was improbable, and a master at hiding emotions and playing them. But I doubted he felt any true emotions. He had just leaned to manipulate them. Quite flawlessly.

"Hmm, I now I know why Sherlock likes you. I thought perhaps Irene Alder or Jeanine but they are no match for you are, right love?" He laughed, stroking my face.

"Who?" I ask, slightly perplexed. Sherlock didn't mention those names but I know they were something.

"That saucy little harlot, Irene. She was nothing, really. Sherlock didn't tell you? And Oh Jeanine was his girlfriend. Just an ordinary, boring tabloid whore." Jim answered.

"Oh." Was I could muster.

"You are no ordinary woman. Utterly brilliant and beautiful might I add. I was getting tried of these boring civilians. Stupid. Stupid! But now I have you." Jim giggled, winking at me mischievously.

"Why? What do you want me to do, James Moriarty?" I growled, inching closer towards him. He smelled like expensive cologne.

"Darling no need for formalities! Call me Jim. I want you to play the game. Yes, yes. The game! Sherlock plays it so well."  Jim exclaimed, and he frowned at my use of the name James. He was a psychopath, a genius but yet had characteristics of a child. How peculiar.

"Tell me does Sherlock feel sentiment towards you? I bet he does. Someone just like him. What would he do if— you would get hurt?" Jim asked me curiously. His excitement was that of a schoolboy.

"Perhaps not sentiment. I doubt it. Why do you care, James Moriarty?" I growled.

"I don't like James. Never did. Mama did a bad job naming me that. I don't care, Y/N. I'm just interested. Completely entranced by you missy. Consider yourself a pawn in the game. My game. Goodbye, darling. But not forever." Jim mused, and he leaned into me and kissed me on the cheek. 

I watched him stroll away causally and whistling a tune of a familiar  song. Twisted Nerve.

Another message came and it was from Sherlock. Oh shit. I'm in trouble.

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to my few readers thank u ilysm!!

So how ru gonna explain to Sherlock 😂😂😉 tehehe

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